


The Marks On Our Skin

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: In a world where soulmate exist, they communicate by writing on their skin.
Relationships: Alec John Such/Original Female Character, David Bryan/Tico Torres, Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	The Marks On Our Skin

When Hector Torres was three years old, he was in his mother's arms and coloring in a notebook while they wait at the doctor's office for their monthly appointment. 

Mrs. Torres was talking with the woman that was sitting next to her, and as she shifted to get more comfortable, Hector caught sight of his mother's arm, and saw, ' _You're going to need to get milk tomorrow.'_

Hector looked down at his own arm, grabbed a marker, and wrote - ' _Who Are You?'_

No response came. 

When Hector Torres was five years old, he gave it another try.

Hector sat down in the middle of his room, and with his first message having long faded from his skin, wrote - ' _It's not nice to ignore people.'_

"What are you doing?" Mr. Torres asked, walking into the room to inform his son that dinner was ready. He looked down at the messy writing on Hector's arm, and then back up. 

Hector pouted. "They aren't writing back." He said sadly, looking down at those six single words, and no response. "Why aren't they writing back?"

Mr. Torres sighed, and reached out for his son to take his hand. Hector took his father's hand and looked up at the one person he had looked up to for true guidance, hoping for an answer to his confusion and hurt. 

"Well, maybe they haven't been born yet." Mr. Torres said, trying not to worry about it too much, anyways. There was plenty of time to figure the whole soulmate mess later, but not now. "C'mon, your mother has dinner waiting." 

And as Hector walked dejectedly down the stairs, Mr. Torres rolled up his sleeve and wrote - ' I _t's way too early for this.'_

From downstairs, Mrs. Torres laughed. 

A month later, Hector wrote down on his arm - ' _It's still not nice.'_

Yet again, nobody ever responded. 

At six years old, Hector was rejected from his classmates, and as he sat in the corner of the play yard, feeling alone and sad, he grabbed a pen and wrote another message, hoping for some sort of response, no matter how short it may have been. 

' _The other kids are mean to me.'_ Hector wrote. ' _They pushed me down and called me names.'_ He ran out of room on his right arm, so he switched to his left arm. 

' _How is school for you?'_

For the rest of recess, Hector stared at his arms, his legs, hands, _everywhere,_ hoping for a response, but once again, he was left disappointed. 

Hector was seven years old, and as he sat in detention, wrote a message down on his leg - ' _You're a jerk, whoever you are.'_

When Hector was eight, he stopped writing on himself, and became known as Tico. 

One year later, when Tico was nine years old, he discovered a huge blotch of pink marker on his arm. Understandably confused, Tico stared at the hideous mark before walking into his bathroom and scrubbing it fiercely until his skin was raw and the mark was gone. 

Tico was angry from the silence, and when he was done, he grabbed a pen and wrote down on his other arm - ' _LEAVE ME ALONE '_

Nothing else appeared for a long while, and Tico pretended to be happy, but it made his heart ache at the silence. 

When Tico was twenty-five years old and in college studying for his arts degree for no reason other than it would make his parents happy, two words were scrawled onto his arms, one for each. 

' _FUCK'_ and then ' _YOU '_

He frowned, thinking for a moment about how terrible that was going to look to other people. Tico grabbed his pen and wrote down on the back of his hand - ' _I don't know what you're talking about.'_

Once more, there was no response, and while Tico was glad that he didn't have to worry anymore about whether or not his soulmate was dead or something equally nefarious, he was still angry that he hadn't gotten a response for years on end, and now, his soulmate was angry at him? 

Hell no. 

\--------------------------------------------------- SEVEN YEARS LATER 

"Earth to Torres? Are you with me right now, man?" Alec said, waving his hand in front of Tico's face with a rather irritated look on his face, made worse by the sight of his coffee stained shirt and grizzled features. 

Tico sighed. "Sorry, Al. I was just thinking." He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled apologetically at his friend, who not only looked unconvinced, but just looked plain irritated. 

They were sitting in their shared apartment, smoking and talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was in the middle of the night, and Tico knew that he should be a responsible adult and go to bed, but what was the fun in that? 

Alec rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "You're thinking 'bout your soulmate again, huh?" He said, reaching over and grabbing his mug of coffee. Tico thought about telling him to quit it, but didn't. "I gotta tell you, Teek, this is starting to get old." 

"It's not affecting you at all." Tico said defensively, crossing his arms and leaning backwards in his chair. 

Alec snorted. "Yeah, okay." 

"Hey!" Tico scowled, but he had no real response for the exasperation that was clearly shown by Alec, who had long met his soul mate, Natalie, who worked out of state. Tico hadn't talked to his own soulmate in several years, and it was beginning to take a toll on him, both physically and mentally. "I just - they've only done it once, and it was to say 'fuck you'. Who does that?" 

"Well, I dunno." Alec said, standing up and walking back into the kitchen. He poured himself more coffee, and began to dump a liberal amount of sugar into the mug. "You told them to leave you alone, so..." He let the unfinished sentence hang in the air. 

Tico was running out of arguments. "He - he didn't respond for years!" 

"Well, I dunno, Tico. Maybe they weren't in a position to respond?" Alec looked like he wanted to toss himself out of the window. "You can't spend the rest off your life being angry about this." He said solemnly, shaking his head before draining his coffee in a quick quick gulps. 

Tico wasn't sure about whether he should be impressed or terrified. "I don't even know if they'll respond." He said softly. 

Alec grabbed a pen. "Well, then I'll help you." He advanced quickly onto Tico and held out the object expectantly. "You gotta do it, Teek." Alec said with uncharacteristic seriousness. The object hovered in the air expectantly, awaiting to be taken. 

Tico looked at the pen, then at Alec, and then back and forth until he was suitably dizzy and still just as confused. He hadn't expected to have had to make such a decision, and yet, here he was. "You know that I can't, Al." Tico said nervously, pushing back against the couch, as if attempting to get away. "I can't. They won't respond, and then I'll be stuck here without a soulmate and my life will be ruined and-" 

"Oh, cry me a river!" Alec was beginning to get irritated. "Take the fucking pen, say hi, and then you can go back to whatever you were doing." 

"No." Tico said firmly, but then he stepped, and had to consider the situation at hand. 

Would it really be that bad? Just a quick greeting and then Tico could get the hell out of dodge. Chances were, his soulmate wouldn't even respond and Tico could get on with his pathetic life and spend the rest of the night trying to fall asleep while being bothered by his roommate. 

Tico wasn't meant to have a soulmate, that much was obvious, so it wouldn't hurt for this one, last time. 

With an irritated groan, Tico grabbed the pen and stared down at it like it was his mortal enemy. "You're such a jerk." He muttered, maybe to the pen, or maybe to the man in front of him, who grinned cheerfully and sat back down. 

Alec would see what Tico meant soon enough, anyways, so it didn't matter. 

Rolling up his sleeve, Tico wrote down - ' _Hey, stranger.'_


End file.
